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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27684356">"1-2 Crush on You"</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChillyHollow/pseuds/ChillyHollow'>ChillyHollow</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Banter, Birthday, Birthday Sex, F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 01:29:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,862</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27684356</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChillyHollow/pseuds/ChillyHollow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“1 - 2 Crush on You”<br/>by The Clash 1976</p><p>For those who don’t know, Cordelia Gray is the young private detective who stars in P. D. James’ An Unsuitable Job for a Woman, which was turned into a two-season tv series for BBC and ITV in the late 1990s.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Robin Ellacott/Cormoran Strike</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>"1-2 Crush on You"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He turned 40 today.Well, technically he would turn 40 at 9:09 p.m. tonight.(When she remembered, Leda always insisted on waiting until the actual time of his birth to celebrate.)He disliked a big deal being made over the day of his birth.Still, it was nice to have found a bottle of his favorite single malt whisky in his desk drawer this morning with a sticky note in his partner’s handwriting that read, “Happy Birthday.Hope tailing Pony isn’t too boring this afternoon. Rx”</p><p>He wouldn’t see her today as she was busy doing research in this morning and would be doing her own surveillance in the afternoon, but he would catch up with Robin tomorrow night at the Herberts’ house where his friends Nick and Ilsa were throwing him a curry night celebration that they were carefully not calling a birthday party.He tried not to feel a bit let down that he wouldn’t see Robin until then.He didn’t mind spending his birthday evening alone, really he didn’t.</p><p>He was busy enough today that he didn’t have time to miss her, though.And busy was a blessing.His business was thriving at last.He was grateful to have so much work after the early months of the phone never ringing and the past due bills piling up.By the time he saw Pony back safely to her marital home, it was nearly six.He thought he’d treat himself to a beer at the Tottenham, then pick up a pizza to eat in front of his little tv.An early night for once would be good so he could catch up on his sleep.Walking down the sidewalk, he loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top buttons of a crisply ironed and lightly starched white shirt, worn to fit in while he followed Pony all over the shops on King’s Road. </p><p>The pub was busy, so he got a drink at the bar and headed to a back table to check his phone and email messages.His beer was nearly gone when his attention was diverted by a broad Yorkshire accent that reminded him of his business partner's voice.He looked up and saw the speaker was a woman with black hair streaked with pink and purple chatting with a group of girls at the next table.She was in full punk rocker regalia: studded dog collar around her neck, jeans jacket decorated with chains and zippers, wide leather bracelets, black mini skirt over ripped fishnet tights, black boots.She was drinking beer and complaining about her job.“Boss keeps me skint but at least he keeps his hands to himself even if he is a slave driver and cheap to boot!”</p><p>The other girls started moaning about their boyfriends.Strike was not surprised to hear that the girl with the hair streaks had an unsatisfactory love life.“He was shagging some bleached blonde with big tits on the side.Walked out on the shit and good riddance except I miss a good shag occasionally.”The other girls agreed a good shag was essential to one’s general health but harder to find than rainbow unicorns in central London.They began to speculate on the sexual prowess of the men in the pub, but Strike decided to visit the loo before he heard himself rated as Probably Subpar.</p><p>Back in the main area of the pub he looked at his watch.It was not quite seven so Strike decided to get himself one more beer before heading back to the office.The Friday drinks crowd was pouring into the pub, so he found himself waiting his turn next to some of the young women from the back table, including the Yorkshire lass with the pink streaks.“Oy!” she was calling to the indifferent bartender, who was ignoring her.“Get us a beer!”Strike took pity on her and flagged down the barmaid from his superior height.He ordered them two beers.</p><p>“Thanks,” she said as he handed her one.</p><p>“How are you doing?” he asked, mostly to hear what she would say.He was willing to play along with whatever she was up to.</p><p>“Dying of thirst, me.Otherwise, pretty shit.”</p><p>He grinned at her.She looked him up and down.“You’re a big one.What’s your name?”</p><p>“Strike,” he told her. </p><p>“I’m Becca,” she said, taking a healthy swallow of her beer.“I don’t remember seeing you in here before and you’d be hard to overlook.”</p><p>“I don’t remember you here either, but all you punks look alike.”</p><p>She glared at him, “You fancy suits all look alike, too.”</p><p>“I’m not some suit working in an office,” he told her.“I’m a private detective.”</p><p>She looked skeptical.“And I’m Princess Diana, out slumming.”</p><p>He pulled out his wallet and extracted a business card which he gave Becca.She frowned as she read it.“So you spy on people for money?Like Cordelia Gray?”</p><p>“Yeah.Something like that.”Behind them a woman raised her voice, berating her male companion for ogling the brunette at the next table.On impulse Strike said, “I’m getting takeout pizza for supper.Want to split it with me back at my office?”</p><p>She shrugged and said, “All right, except no pineapple.It’s not natural, that.”They finished their beers and left the bar, followed, Strike was sure, by the sneers of Becca’s mates at the back table.The odd pair walked down the sidewalk together as Strike texted his food order in.The pizza place was two blocks over, so Strike stopped out front for a smoke, offering Becca one of his Benson and Hedges which she took.He lit it for her.They stood smoking together, watching the passing crowd. </p><p>Music drifted from the bar next to the pizza place.It was The Clash.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I gotta cum clean, I gotta cum clean</em>
</p><p>
  <em>ooh, got a crush on you</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I wanna get serious right away</em>
</p><p>
  <em>1-2, I got a crush on you.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Rat race, innit?” she said.</p><p>“Yeah," he agreed.“That’s why I like working for myself.”</p><p>“Is it just you?” Becca asked.</p><p>“No, I have a partner, an office manager for the paperwork, and three contractors these days.”</p><p>“Proper businessman you are. You’re paying for the pizza.”</p><p>His phone pinged, the text signal that their pizza was ready.He went into the restaurant, and paid for their meal while Becca finished her cigarette, then they took the box another block to his office.He led the way to the second floor landing of his building, unlocking the door and turning on the lights.He hung his suit coat on a hook by the door, took off his tie which he stuffed in a coat pocket, and rolled up his shirt sleeves.Becca inspected the rooms without saying anything except “Got anything to drink?”</p><p>“I’ve got beer and whisky.”</p><p>“Whisky.” He got plates out, then fetched his birthday bottle from the inner office.He poured a fingers’s worth in glasses for each of them, then joined Becca on the office sofa to eat the pizza.They were both hungry.After her first slice, Becca kicked off her boots and got them both more slices.Strike tried not to stare at her long legs, enhanced somehow by the fishnet stockings with their artful rips. </p><p>Becca got off the sofa again to fetch more whisky for them both and touched the note still stuck to the bottle.“Is it your birthday then?How old are you?”</p><p>“I’ll be 40 in 45 minutes.”</p><p>“How does it feel?”</p><p>“Pretty much like turning 39 or 30 or 19.I’ve never been one for celebrations.”</p><p>“Maybe this year you should do something different, shake things up a bit,” Becca said, running a finger over his bare forearm that sent a shiver up his spine.</p><p>“Maybe.But friends are having me over for dinner tomorrow.That’s enough celebration.”He took another sip of his drink, letting the amber liquid settle on his tastebuds and add to the soft, intimate atmosphere in the slightly shadowy office. </p><p>Becca leaned closer to him. “Want a birthday shag?” she asked, direct and to the point.</p><p>“Are you offering?”</p><p>“Yeah, it being your birthday and me being dead horny and all.You’re pretty fit for an old guy.”She was sitting closer.He could see the tops of creamy breasts where the jeans jacket she wore didn’t cover.He reached over and touched the dog collar, then lightly brushed a breast.</p><p>She leaned into him and kissed him.He tasted smoke and whisky and pizza.She smelled fabulous.Still, he tried to bring rationality to the situation.</p><p>“Becca, this isn’t a good idea.”</p><p>“Don’t care, Strike, a girl’s got needs,” she said as she unbuttoned his shirt button by button.Before he quite knew what had happened, she had her jeans jacket off and he was running his hands over her stockinged legs.She was kissing him like there was no tomorrow now, but still managed to get his belt unbuckled.She started stroking him through his boxers.</p><p>“Want to move this to a bed?” she asked.</p><p>“How do you know I have a bed handy?”</p><p>“I lied.I asked around when I saw you in the pub before.I like big men so I checked you out and found out your flat’s upstairs from your office.You’ve got a rep as a ladies man and I was curious.Like the song said, I’ve got a crush on you.Come on.”She stood and pulled him to his feet.She picked up her boots and jacket and the bottle of whisky and pushed him out of the office and up the stairs to his flat. </p><p>Every step he was telling himself this was a mistake, but she was right behind him, her hand on his waist, nibbling at his neck.Once he let them into his flat, she put the whisky bottle on the kitchen table and, dropping her boots on the kitchen floor, starting kissing him again.He had no choice but to respond, still following her lead. He was putty in her hands and always had been.She pushed him toward his bedroom where she dropped her jacket.By this point they were both panting.She sat him on the bed and bent his head back to kiss his neck and shoulders as she removed his shirt.</p><p>“Becca, slow down.I don’t think I have any condoms.”</p><p>She laughed a sexy laugh, bent down and retrieved her blue jean jacket from the floor where she’d dropped it and tossed it to him, saying, “Front right zip pocket.”When he unzipped the pocket he found three foil packets which he carefully laid on the bedside table while Becca fetched them more whisky from the kitchen bottle.She put the glasses on the table next to the condoms and straddled him as he sat on the edge of the bed.He proceeded to kiss her thoroughly as a reward for her forethought.She wiggled her hips suggestively and he ran his hands over her long legs.She sighed with pleasure and pushed him back on the bed.</p><p>“Take those tights off,” he suggested. </p><p>“Rip them off,” she said.</p><p>“I’ll ruin them,” he retorted.</p><p>“What do I care?Do it, Strike.”So he did. </p><p>By this point he was on top, trying to push her skirt down over her hips.She helped him and it joined the discarded jeans jacket and the crumpled tights on the floor.They rolled over and she propped herself up to kiss him while he stroked her breasts through her bandeau top.She stopped kissing him long enough to pull the top over her head, revealing lovely breasts.Strike stopped breathing for a second.He hadn’t expected such perfection. </p><p>“Christ, you’re lovely,” he said.</p><p>“Less talk, more action," Becca ordered and bit him on the neck.He retaliated by sucking on her shoulder, leaving a round pink mark.She was stroking him through his boxers and he had one hand cupping a perfect breast and the other between her legs.Somehow they managed to get each other’s underwear off so that they were totally naked except for Becca’s dog collar.She grabbed one of the condom foils and tore it open, then put it over Strike.He angled himself and slid carefully into her. </p><p>She moaned and told him “Nice” as she arched her back, attempting to tilt her hips just so and allow him a bit deeper.“Better be more complimentary, wench,” he told her, and she laughed, which did all sorts of interesting things to him, buried deep inside her as he was.He began to move a little faster, encouraged by her digging her nails into his arse.They were both breathing even harder by now, and kissing each other everywhere they could reach.</p><p>Strike was trying to restrain himself as Becca encouraged him to go faster.He lost control when she started moaning in ecstasy and began to piston faster and faster.She cried out, which tipped him over the edge.Everything went white and there was nothing but pure pleasure and her soft skin. When he came to himself again he gave an experimental thrust as he was still hard but she stopped him.“Too sensitive. Just kiss me, ok?”So he did.</p><p>They lay together as their hearts slowed down, feeling relaxed.Strike kissed her again as he slipped his hands under her fine arse and pulled her tightly to him, trying to stay inside her as long as possible.But he was softening and finally had to roll off Becca and dispose of the condom. </p><p>“Happy birthday,” she whispered.“After a while we might go again, yeah?”</p><p>“Yeah,” he said, already aroused at the thought of more sex with this amazing woman.They sat up in bed, propped up by pillows, his arm around her shoulder as they sipped a bit more whisky.She fit next to him perfectly. </p><p>“Got a girlfriend?” she asked as he put down his glass to stroke her cheek.</p><p>“No, but I’m in love with my partner,” he told Becca.It was easy to tell Becca this, although he couldn’t tell Robin.Not yet.</p><p>“Lucky girl,” she said. </p><p>“How about you?” he asked. </p><p>“I’ve got my eye on someone but they are out of my league.Probably not interested, anyway.”</p><p>“A right fool if they’re not,” Strike told her, then they put the glasses of whisky aside for a long snogging session that ended up abusing another condom.By now Strike was a good hour into his 40th year and wondering if Becca’d stay the night so he could use up their last condom in the morning.“Stay over?” he asked.</p><p>“Yeah,” she said sleepily.“Don’t want to waste money on a condom we don’t use, right?”</p><p>“Absolutely not.”He pulled her next to him and put one large hand on her hip.“Best birthday ever, Becca.”</p><p>“Ummmm,” she said.“Glad to see you put those previous years to good use learning to fuck, old man, but you need more practice.I’ll volunteer tomorrow morning, just to help you get into top form for your lady friend.”</p><p>“You’re the best, Becca.”</p><p>“You’d better believe it.”He closed his eyes and was instantly asleep.She smiled and followed her partner into dreamland.</p><p>The next morning’s sex was fast and furious, neither wanting to waste the little remaining time they had together.Becca rode herself to oblivion on top of him as he unbuckled her dog collar and threw it across the room.He left more suck marks on her breasts and neck, wanting her to remember him, then she gave him a blow job that was out of this world.He lay boneless on the bed, watching her pick up her clothing and start to dress.“Got to get home, me,” she told him. </p><p>“Will I see you again?”</p><p>“No, this was a one-off.You’d take me for granted if we made a habit of it and we’re both in love with somebody else.Best tell her, Strike.”</p><p>“I know. I’ll tell her when I see her tonight.You should do the same.”</p><p>She came to the bed and kissed him goodbye, then she sauntered out of his bedroom.He found the dog collar behind the dresser later, and, smiling, put it in his bedside table’s drawer.Maybe one day he’d run into Becca again and could return it.Maybe he needed to buy some condoms.</p><p>Later that morning Robin put a pair of torn fishnet tights carefully away in her box of memories, then jumped in the shower, washed her hair, and got dressed, choosing a high-necked blouse.She had surveillance all afternoon and wouldn’t have time to change before she went to Ilsa and Nick’s house for curry night to celebrate Cormoran’s birthday.She had a birthday card for him but she wondered if it might be wise to buy a box of condoms before she left for the Herberts’ place.Max was away this weekend, after all and if Cormoran did what he’d told Becca he would….</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Robert Galbraith’s Lethal White calls Robin’s disguised alter ego Bobbi but the BBC One series changed the name to Becca.  I used Becca because of the amazing visual performance that Holliday Granger gives bringing Becca to life on the small screen.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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